


Baby-Blue Eyes

by Alfreds_Mustache



Series: Because he had Wally [2]
Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Birdflash - Freeform, Character Death, Feels, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, No happy ending here, Poor Wally, Sad, Sad Ending, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 01:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alfreds_Mustache/pseuds/Alfreds_Mustache
Summary: He needed to do this, if not for his own state of mind, then for Dick; Dick didn’t deserve not to know what he felt for him. It wouldn’t be fair. Plus, he didn’t think he could keep these feelings--guilt, pleasure, devotion, love--to himself any longer.He closed his eyes as he began to feel his heartbeat start to race. He needed to keep himself calm enough so that he could actually get his thoughts--feelings, desires--out when the time finally came.*/or/Wally's side of the story... (SEQUEL to "Because he had Wally")
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Series: Because he had Wally [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626031
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	Baby-Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself cry so hard while writing this... so, fair warning, this does NOT have a happy ending :(
> 
> The song that Wally listens to: "Electric Love" by BORNS  
Songs I listened to while writing this (really sets the sad mood):  
\- "My Heart is Buried in Venice" by Ricky Montgomery  
\- "The Good Part" by AJR  
\- "The Call" by Regina Spektor
> 
> Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. All rights go to DC Comics.  
WARNING: MENTIONS OF BLOOD/INJURY, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.

Today was the day he was finally going to do it. He’d been thinking about it seriously for the past couple of months, and it’d been driving him crazy; he just couldn't work up the nerve to actually follow through with his feelings. He was also scared; what if he made a complete fool of himself? What if it didn't work out? What if he said no? What if he didn’t even swing that way?

These thoughts had been plaguing his mind for weeks. But the feelings that gravitated him toward needing to tell his crush--his best friend--now outweighed his fear of rejection. He needed to know; needed to know if he felt the same way, and more than anything he needed to get these feelings off of his chest; he didn't want to keep feeling awkward or ashamed for looking at his best friend in the light that he’d recently been.

He’d started to notice little things, things he hadn’t payed attention to or never really noticed before; like the way he’d bite his lip when mulling something over in his head; the way his baby-blue eyes shone like sapphires every time he talked about the circus; his warm, gold-tinted skin that told of his Romani heritage, the toothy grin that made his insides flutter, how he stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth and furrowed his brows whenever they played video games together--the way his lips quirked upwards in cheeky smugness whenever he won…

He took a deep breath of the cool, Bludhaven air.

Right. He was in Bludhaven. The most dangerous, most corrupt, most criminal-infested city this side of the country, all for the sake of love.

Ugh, that sounded so cliche in his own mind. He cringed before steeling himself with another deep breath. He tried focusing on his music for now, distract his nervous thoughts about what the hell he was going to say and how the hell he was going to say it and what the fuck to do afterward.

He turned up the volume on his earbuds, effectively drowning himself out.

He let the words wash over him and felt himself unconsciously stepping with more purpose, in time with the chords and lyrics.

_ ...Baby you're like lightning in a bottle _

_ I can't let you go now that I got it… _

He allowed himself a small, nervous smile.

Aunt Iris had been the one to introduce him to the song, actually. She heard it on “one of those teen, pop-electro-whatever” radio stations (her exact words), and told him about it at one of their family dinners. She’d said it reminded her of him and Uncle Barry, and it was pretty obvious why. Still, the first time he’d actually listened to it he blushed with embarrassment, because, yes Aunt Iris, it was a love song. About a guy loving a girl. That normally wouldn’t bother him at all (it hadn’t before and it certainly didn’t now), but at the time he’d been in the throws of coming to terms with his own sexuality, so. Yeah, not great timing.

But, he’d grown to love it, at least for the catchy tune if nothing else. It made him smile, and right now it was giving him a much-needed confidence boost.

_ ...All I need is to be struck _

_ By your electric love… _

He turned the corner, not bothering to look at any road names or markers for direction; he’d come here enough times and often enough when visiting his best friend; he practically new the way by memory. All he had left was another couple of blocks until he arrived at the apartment. (Unannounced, of course. He was nervous enough as it was, but if he’d actually scheduled an actual meeting time and place, he would have gotten too caught up in his own head to make himself go. That, or he’d totally chicken out the moment he was at the receiving end of that baby-blue gaze…)

_ ...Electric love _

_ Rushing through me _

_ I feel your energy rushing through me… _

He closed his eyes as he began to feel his heartbeat start to race. He needed to keep himself calm enough so that he could actually get his thoughts--feelings, desires--out when the time finally came.

Which was very, very soon, he reminded himself. He could do this. This was important. He needed to do this, if not for his own state of mind, then for Dick; Dick didn’t deserve not to know what he felt for him. It wouldn’t be fair. Plus, he didn’t think he could keep these feelings--guilt, pleasure, devotion,  _ love _ \--to himself any longer.

_ ...Baby you're electric love _

_ Baby you're electric electric-- _

He opened his eyes to look down at his phone as the song ended, quickly pressing the looping repeat button. This song was actually starting to calm his nerves, and he wasn't sure what else would (if anything), so he decided to keep listening to this for as long as he needed to.

The song started up again.

He stumbled rather suddenly, however, as he found himself accidentally bumping into the backside of someone standing in the middle of the sidewalk, unmoving as far as he could tell. He was about to brush it off, maybe apologize if the guy turned around to yell at him or something--which the guy didn’t do, so he shrugged and moved to step around him. He did so, only to find someone else (a younger woman, probably in her late thirties, about ten years older than himself) standing motionless next to the first guy. And then another person doing the same thing; standing in the middle of the sidewalk; upon finally looking up, he noticed that it wasn’t just a couple of random pedestrians who’d suddenly forgotten how to use a sidewalk; it was an entire gathering, as though they’d all dropped whatever they'd been doing to come over here and gawk at something. Not that there wasn’t a lot to gawk and stare at in Bludhaven, but it seemed kind of… out of place?

He didn't know why it felt that way. Maybe because it was the middle of the day at rush hour? If there was ever a good time to be in Bludhaven, it would have to be around lunch time, when the city was awake but too busy to be wandering the streets; it was the only time of day that there was a noticeable--although slight, very slight--dip in the crime rate. Then, of course, the crime rate would double back twice as heavy in force and numbers in the late afternoon to early morning.

So, yeah, it was probably the fact that it was surprising to see a crime (or really, the aftereffects of it) in broad daylight in the middle of an average-looking street with, as it turned out, plenty of witnesses around to see it happen.

He frowned, and couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt for whatever had happened, and silently hoped that any victims were okay and being taken care of. He blamed the surge of guilt on himself being a hero, one of the people who were normally in charge of preventing these kinds of things. It always hurt when you couldn’t get there in time, a lesson he’d learned pretty quickly when first starting out as Kid Flash.

He tried to skirt his way around the crowd, avoiding as much as possible the actual scene of the crime. He knew from experience that the guilt and hurt would only get worse if you actually saw what happened, if you saw an actual person, because that meant that  _ it was real _ . He should definitely be used to this kind of thing by now, he’d been doing it for almost twelve years alongside his Uncle Barry, who also happened to be in police forensics.

Still, it was so much easier to reassure himself that this--the injuries or fatalities or trauma of the victim/s--wasn’t his fault. Sometimes shit just happens because that’s the way the world works. He had to talk himself down a little bit as he felt himself starting to panic. Damn, this crowd was getting to him.

He needed to get out of here. He needed space to breathe, he needed to get to Dick’s apartment. He needed to do so many things but he couldn’t concentrate. He took a deep breath. As he squeezed past the endless horde of bystanders, he focused on calming his thoughts as best he could.

_ You’re just a civilian today. _

_ Just regular old Wally West. Just me. _

_ Not a superhero, not a speedster, not Kid Flash. _

_ Just Wally. _

_ You can do this. _

_ For Dick. You can at least do this for him. _

At one point an elbow from the crowd found its way into his side. Winded but uninjured, he stumbled back, only to pitch backwards and almost into someone else. It was at that point that he lost control of his footing and tumbled awkwardly to the ground. He might have knocked his head on the way down, too, because his ears were starting to ring. He blinked and looked up around him, wondering for a moment how he’d gotten there. He was a klutz, sure, but also a speedster; he should have been able to catch himself.  _ Unless… _

Amidst the feet, the pant legs, the shuffling and the general sidewalk debris, he spotted a slick patch of ice.  _ That’s what it must’ve been _ , he thought.  _ A stupid patch of ice _ ; that was what he’d just slipped on.

Sighing, he picked himself off of the cold pavement and dusted himself off.

When he’d started his walk he hadn't realized that it was going to take him this long to get to the apartment. He certainly hadn’t factored something like this into his plan. That being said, he didn't want to arrive at Dick’s place only for him to have already left for work.

He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. After a quick debate with himself, he grabbed his phone from his back pocket, pausing the music momentarily.

He was getting nervous, if he were being honest with himself. He blamed this unforeseen obstacle on the feeling.

He scrolled through his contacts with unsteady fingers until he came upon the name he was looking for. He hesitated for a moment, finger hovering over the call button.

_ What should I say? _

_ What the  _ hell  _ should I say?? _

_ Something like: “Hey, you didn’t know this, but I’m coming over so I can maybe confess my love to you. Okay bye! See you soon!” _

During his minor internal struggle, he’d somehow accidentally pressed ‘call’.

_ Shit shit shit! _

He held the phone against his ear, heart beating frantically in his chest. He could feel his foot nervously tapping the ground, his hands starting to fidget, and found himself biting his lip. The ringing on the other end was ungodly slow, pure torture for a speedster. Seconds went by.

The ringing continued.

God, he was so nervous. What the hell was he doing? What if Dick didn’t want to talk? What if he wasn’t even at his apartment? What was he going to say? What if--?

_ “Hey, it’s Dick. Sorry that I can’t come to the phone right n-- Roy? What the fuck are you doing?? Oh my fucking G-- “ *beeeep*. _

He silently cursed, unprepared for the dialtone.  _ Fuck _ .

“Um--hi, Dick, it’s um-- I was just calling to, um. I mean,” he stumbled over his words. He cringed at himself, “Uh, I need to talk to you, so. Um--”

*Beeeep*

The machine cut him off.

“Goddamnit!”

He dialed up the number again, no more sure of himself than he was the first time, but he hadn’t even gotten out what he’d needed to say.

He heard the same ringing.

He waited.

The ringing continued.

And then--

...

_ Wait a second-- _

His head shot up, and he looked around, scanning the crowd for something--

There it was again.

He could’ve sworn he could hear Dick’s ringtone--the one he’d assigned for himself as a prank on the younger, who’d ended up keeping it because he thought it was hilarious (the following day Dick had done the same thing to him); it was an annoying Trap version of “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger” by Daft Punk.

He would've snorted at the memory had his heart not been close to leaping out of his throat.

The phone in his hand dropped to his side as he gazed over the heads around him frantically.

He could still hear the ringtone; it was close, he could tell that much. He shuffled around for a moment, finding a way out of the little box of people who were surrounding him. Once he’d done that, he began scrambling through the rest of the crowd, following the noise as best he could. He was able to feel nervous sweat tickling the back of his neck, and his heartrate was entering superhuman speeds.

The sound cut off suddenly, and he found himself lost in the middle of the sea of people.

“Shit!” he dialed again without thinking, continuing to pursue the sound of Daft Punk the second it started up again.

There, to the left--

He pushed--as politely as he possibly could-- through pedestrian after pedestrian, muttering apologies as he did so. He almost tripped flat on his face again several times but managed to catch himself each time.

There it was--the sound--it was so close--he was so close--

He practically tackled the person in front of him as he sprinted forward, too nervous and excited and worried and hopeful and oh god oh god oh god

He stopped, realizing he was at the edge of the crowd. His eyes darted around at the faces around him, at the faces etched with worry, disgust, horror, pain--the faces, all the faces but none of them were Dick--where was Dick he should be here where was he--he should be one of these faces so many faces--so many faces all looking at--looking at--looking at….

There.

There it was.

Curiously enough, it was lying on the pavement.

Amidst broken glass and spatters of wet blood…. A car accident?

But why was the phone…?

Where was…?

How...did it…?

…

…

He forced his gaze to the circle of solemn EMTs and paramedics, officers with varying expressions standing to the side… to the side of….

_ Oh god. _

Bile rose in his throat. An uneasy feeling swirled in his stomach that he couldn't explain.

Someone had… had  _ died _ .

Someone had died, and  _ where was Dick? _

Maybe he was on duty today..? No. No, that wasn't right.

The sight of the white sheet gave him pause. God, he’d seen too many of those in his lifetime. It always meant finality; there was nothing left to do, no hope for the person under it. He hated it.

Distantly, he wondered who it was...

He felt like he was going to vomit.

_ Dick, where the  _ fuck  _ are you? _

...

He didn't know what to do. He suddenly felt very lost and overwhelmed and stifled and there were too many people and where was Dick? Where’s his best friend his crush where is the love of his life? Where the  _ fuck _ ….

_ No _ .

_ Oh, god. _

_ Oh god, please no. _

_ No. Nonono…. _

_ Fuck--- _ please _ \--no--oh  _ god _ \-- _

He surged forward, ignoring the shouts of surprise around him. He was going to throw up he was going to pass out he was going to die oh god oh god oh god  _ oh god _ \--

“Sir, please stand back, this is a--”

“ _ Who is it? _ ”

“Excuse me, sir--”

“Please--**_Who is it?_** _Fuck_, oh god _please_\--”

Faster than any of the officers or EMTs could blink, he peeled away the head of the sheet, just enough to get a glimpse at--

Vomit bubbled up his throat and onto the ground beside him.

The sob that escaped soon after as he gazed into a pair of glossy, baby-blue eyes…

A sob tore itself from his throat, utter despair and pain and  _ oh god oh god OH GOD _ ** _ WHY_ **

The baby-blue eyes that gazed unseeingly back at him were a poison-tipped javelin tearing itself through the muscle and tissue and blood and veins of his heart...

Tears mixed with blood and pain and sadness so much sadness as he flung himself down atop the man he loved more than anything else in the world. He pressed his face into ebony hair matted with blood and gravel, his tears slipping over his freckles onto the pale skin of the body beneath him.

Sobs wracked his body, wails of pain for the one person he thought he’d never lose. Apologies and confessions and words of love and of comfort spilled from his lips and into the blood-stained shirt he held onto for dear life.

Pain.

All he felt was pain.

So much  _ pain _ .

“Oh Dickie… Oh _god_, Dickie,_ why’d you have to leave me?_ **_Why now, Dickie?_**

Tears blurring his vision and body trembling with utter despair and grief, he stared into the lost eyes of the one he’d do anything for. God, he would do anything.

_ Why hadn’t it been me? Oh god,  _ ** _why hadn’t it been me?_ **

A new wave of sobs shook his bent frame as he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to Dick’s.

He held him tight in his arms, as though that might force the life back into his still form.

No, he wasn’t coming back. His smile, his blush, his winks, his off-handed remarks, his stories, his touches, his gaze…his laugh, his tears, his sorrows, his happiness...

Gone.

_ He was never coming back. _

And Wally wished more than anything that right then, right there, that he would die too.

_ Oh, Dickie… _

“I’m so sorry, Dickie, so sorry… so sorry…” another heartbroken sob, “I love you, Dickie…I love you so goddamn much….”

Dick’s baby-blue eyes gave no response.

** _“I love you.”_ **

**Author's Note:**

> :((((( Im so sorry <3<3
> 
> please let me know your thoughts, if i made you cry or not, what your favorite cookie flavor is (because you deserve a cookie after that sad fest, good lord)... <3


End file.
